


In Knowing

by Val_Creative



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Ballroom Dancing, Diego Hargreeves is Bad at Feelings, During Canon, Embarrassment, Episode Related, Episode: s02e04 The Majestic 12, Extremely Dubious Consent, F/M, Humor, Manipulation, Momma's Boy Diego Hargreeves, Mommy Issues, Pseudo-Incest, Season/Series 02, Semi-Public Sex, Sexual Content, Unresolved Emotional Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-04
Updated: 2020-08-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:21:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25717978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Val_Creative/pseuds/Val_Creative
Summary: Diego gets pursued by the original Grace, not expecting it.
Relationships: Diego Hargreeves/Grace Hargreeves
Comments: 8
Kudos: 59





	In Knowing

**Author's Note:**

  * For [anxiouss_princess](https://archiveofourown.org/users/anxiouss_princess/gifts).



> I CALLED IT. I CALLED GRACE BEING BASED ON A REAL LADY AND DIEGO MEETING HER. ONE DAY HE WAS GONNA.

*

It can't be.

It _can't_.

Diego knows those piercingly blue eyes from anywhere. Any room in an endless mansion. Any fucked-up timeline. Any era.

He knows how the sun illuminates every golden honeysuckle strand of Mom's hair. The expensive perfume lingering on her dresses. Peony, rose, and cedar — Diego knows each note like a stringed instrument resonating deep in his heart.

She's real. Real as the air Diego breathes.

"Might I cut in?" Grace murmurs, smiling professionally wide. Pearly as her necklace.

Lila glances neutrally between her and a completely stunned Diego. "I dunno about that…" she whispers. Diego can sense the hint of playfulness in Lila's tone. He shakes his head for a moment, trying to collect himself. "Might you?"

"Will you shut up and get gone?" Diego hisses.

He frowns at Lila who smirks and steals away Grace's full champagne glass with a wink.

"She's a charmer, that one," Grace observes, never faltering on that smile. It's so familiar. Diego can barely breathe when her lovely, pale hands find his. Clasping him. She feels impossibly warm. "How about you, Mystery Man? Or are those two left feet on you?"

The steps are easy enough. Forward with the left… side with the right… close with left to the right and switch weight…

Mom taught him.

Diego feels her inches from pressing against him, moving smoothly in the dance, whirling and gazing over Diego's face as if intrigued. "You have been making little puppy dog eyes at me this whole time," Grace drawls softly. Her Southern accent thick. One of Grace's fingernails traces over the fabric of Diego's suit. "What is it that you want, hon?"

"To warn you," Diego insists in a hushed voice. One of her dainty eyebrows quirk up. "Listen to me, okay? _Dahh_ —" He clears his throat uncomfortably, nearly missing a step. " _Date_ —your date. Sir Reginald Hargreeves. He isn't the man you think he is."

"I know more about him than I know about you."

"Do you?" At this, Grace's expression goes vacant. "Do you know everything or do you know what he's told you?"

There's a quiet pause before she grins uncertainly and laughs. Diego wants to laugh along with her. He's tired. He's missed her. He doesn't want to _die_ in another horrific end-of-the-world scenario like Five is whining about. He doesn't want _her_ dead.

"You sound madder than a jackrabbit," Grace tells him, her hand tightening in his.

Diego nods, licking his lips. He eyes the room. "I get that. Believe me."

"But you are plenty handsome." Grace's hand slips out of his, raising it and holding the side of Diego's face with the utmost gentle intent. His heart pounds. "Maybe I can overlook that for now," she whispers, fluttering her eyelashes. "Hmm?"

At the sensation of Grace's thumb dragging over his bottom lip, Diego lurches slightly. His face warms.

"No, nnh-no—" he protests. _Fucking-damn_ stutter. "Don't—I'm nnn-nhn-not—"

It's not right.

It's not _right_ because Diego _knew_ her.

He knew her when Mom cooked eggs and bacon on Thursday morning. He knew her when Mom instructed him on Japanese and Russian and French, and rewarded Diego with a powdery-soft kiss on the forehead during his vocabulary. He knew her when Mom woke him up from nightmares of drowning, calming the panic attack and wiping his face off with one of her dainty, white handkerchiefs.

He _knew_ her, and she looks and smells exactly like Mom. But her skin is warm. Warm, _warm_. Grace's lips tickle against Diego's mouth. Diego knew her and loved her, and she was _the most beautiful woman_ that ever lived. Even if she wasn't alive.

"You're not foolin' anyone, hon."

Grace presses another wet, warm kiss to his jaw. Diego tries to pull away, murmuring and shaking his head, only to feel her arms locking his waist. She pulls him in. All of the world fades out until it's them. Eye to eye. Chest to chest.

Mom never had a pulse, true. But she had the biggest heart out of anyone, Diego thinks.

_Mom…_

He groans out, silently willing his blood to keep north. It doesn't help that Grace smiles so alluringly, taking one of Diego's hands and flattening it right against her crotch. Diego can feel her through the layer of fancy white silk. Blazing-hot.

His palm grinds on instinct. That's it. Diego wants what he wants. And he always wants the young, beautiful women.

"Mom…"

Diego's voice strains.

They're surrounded by people too involved in themselves to know something's happening.

Grace works up the front of her black-and-white asymmetrical dress, basking in his show of embarrassment and helplessness, and Diego can't even run. Work the _nerve_ to yank himself out of her grasp. For fuck's sake, he's got a hundred or so pounds of muscles on her.

"What is it you want, baby boy?" she murmurs, sliding all of Diego's fingers under her panties. Satiny white.

Diego lets out a low, choking gasp.

Her pussy lips feel shaven and soft and _sopping-wet_ with her own fluids.

Warm. So, so warm.

_"Tell Momma."_

"Fuck," Diego mutters. "Oh, oh fuck—"

_"That's it, baby."_

His cock twitches when Grace moans against Diego's neck, rubbing herself on his fingers. He's hard as hell. Somehow, fucking _somehow_ in this chaos, Diego finds his release in Lila appearing behind him, gripping his shoulder almost painfully.

"Might I cut in?" she says mockingly.

Diego finds himself thrown backwards, stumbling to right himself and gawking. Grace has already rearranged her dress pleasantly. She fluffs her curls. Her expression vacant. "He sent you," Diego whispers, realizing he's an idiot. "Didn't he?"

"Bless your heart. If it's any consolation… you were my favorite dancing partner…"

Grace mimics Lila's wink, blowing a kiss and heading for the staircase.

Diego grows out in frustration, shutting his eyes. Fuck.

"Number Five is not going to happy," Lila says nonchalantly, downing another glass of champagne.

_"Will you SHUT UP!?"_

*


End file.
